


Good Boys

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Android Sumo, Based on Twitter Thread, Delivery Android Connor, Delivery Person Hank Anderson, Happy Ending, M/M, No Cops, Penis In Vagina Sex, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: On bereavement leave from his delivery driver job since Cole's death, Hank goes to the scrapyard to find parts for an old car, and finds a damaged android dog instead. One android leads to another, and soon Hank is falling for his replacement at work, an obsolete model named Connor who's been doing Hank's job in his absence but is soon to be deactivated...
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 112





	Good Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Trans android Connor, I use the term slit to refer to his genitals.
> 
> Notes: This was a thread I did a long time ago, fleshed out into a full HankCon one-shot. This should be a nice palette cleanser from *gestures around* everything.

A gentle spring rain fell as Hank pulled into the VETA scrapyard. Hank's self-driving car announced it had reached its destination and killed the engine. Hank climbed out, staring up at heavy clouds as bleak as his mood. He kicked up muddy puddles laced with fresh thirium as he nodded to a nearby yard worker, the mixture of water and thirium refusing to blend like oil and water. It was an unpleasant place, but he needed parts for a 1988 Oldsmobile he was fixing up in his garage. While it was a long shot that he'd find anything compatible with an antique gas-powered car, it was better than paying inflated prices online.

A tiny whine caught his ear as he dug through old rusted mufflers and gaudy wheel rims. He was grateful the androids had their own pit away from the car parts: looking at those all-too-human faces in a state of decay creeped him out, like he was looking at the undead, trapped between a state of life and death. Androids weren't alive, but they sure looked it.

The whimper caught Hank's ear again. It sounded like a dog. Had some asshole really dumped their dog here at the scrapyard? Perhaps they used guard dogs, though that was rare in a time of androids. The noise sounded like it was coming from the scrap pile, and Hank realized the poor thing had taken shelter underneath the car parts. It might have been trapped there when new parts were dropped on top. Hank started to dig through scrap metal, determined to find the poor creature. He tossed aside door handles and side panels until he realized the sound wasn't coming from inside the pile, but behind him. He stood up and walked over to a shell of an old sports car with racing stripes on the side. 

Hank peered inside to see a St. Bernard sprawled across the back seats. The dog panted, its ears lifting at the sight of Hank. Hank reached through the broken window to pet the dog, a smile crossing his face. Even if he didn't find the parts he was looking for, the trip had been worth it just to see this dog.

"Hey, boy," Hank soothed, petting its matted fur.

It wagged its tail and stood up, almost hitting its head on the roof in excitement. Hank recoiled as he noticed the dog's back leg was stripped of all its fur, revealing a metal skeleton underneath.

The fucking dog wasn't a dog at all, but an android. A pretty early prototype, judging from how uncanny it looked when Hank took a second glance. Its paws looked like they'd been modeled after human hands, and Hank wondered what awful designers had come up with that idea.

"Get the fuck away from me," Hank cursed, backing up. He almost tripped over one of the mufflers he'd tossed aside, and he scrambled to keep his balance. He couldn't believe he'd been tricked by this monstrosity into letting his guard down.

Was nothing real any more? They couldn't even find a human doctor to operate on Cole and now this... thing was mocking the animal world, too? He shook his head, disgusted by the state of the world. His loneliness stung, bolstered by the fact that the only being that had taken any interest in him recently had turned out to be a goddamn robot dog.

Hank walked away, deciding to abandon his search for auto parts. He'd been working on the old car to distract himself from Cole's recent death, but it wasn't working. Nothing was. His son's loss was a giant looming shadow that had consumed his entire life. People avoided him, like his sorrow was a stench that they were afraid of getting on themselves.

Hank heard sloshing steps behind him and turned around to see the dog had followed him. It looked hideous, a mockery of nature created by someone just to demonstrate that they could.

"Get outta here!" Hank bellowed. The dog barked, but continued to pad along beside Hank like a companion.

"I said go, you bag of bolts!" Hank kicked the android dog and it fell over onto its side, whining as if it was in pain. It wiggled its legs, stuck in position. The rain chose that moment to intensify, the heavens opening as if to punish Hank for his sins. If he was smart, he'd run for his car and get the hell out of here while he could, but the pathetic whine the dog let out tore at Hank's heartstrings.

"Fuck," Hank muttered, horror spreading through his veins like he'd kicked a real dog. He knelt down beside it, hauling it into his arms. It truly was a disgrace. Its fur had been torn off in multiple places, and its back right leg didn't move at all. The rain dripped from Hank's hair as he petted its wet fur, trying to comfort it. "I'm sorry, boy. I've got a bad track record with androids. That's not your fault, I know."

He _could_ take the dog home. An old thing like this would be cheap. He could fix it up, make it work again. Just like a real dog, except it wouldn't die and leave him grief-stricken. It would be a friend when all others had abandoned him, a loyal companion when his friends didn't even stop by his house to check in on him. His boss had called a couple of times, but he was too busy to come over.

The dog gazed up at him with wide, longing eyes and Hank realized he was powerless to say no. He hauled the surprisingly heavy mechanical dog up into his arms, carrying it to the worker, who was now sheltering in a small gatehouse.

The scrapyard worker laughed when he saw Hank with the dog. "Why the fuck do you want that piece of junk? It's been here for years. Scares off thieves."

"It's a, uh—project for my son," Hank muttered. He didn't know why he lied, but the truth—that he was so lonely he'd take anything for company—was too much of an assault on his dignity to admit. The man gave it to him for fifty bucks, and he let it sit on the back seat of his car. He didn't have the heart to shut it in the trunk like a mere object, and he realized he'd fallen in love. His therapist would have something to say about that, but he didn't care. Maybe he needed the kind of one-sided love that couldn't leave him heartbroken right now. It panted on the back seat, and he smiled to think he'd saved it from a slow death, rotting away amongst the junk, waiting for love that might never come. Waiting for Hank.

The rain had abated by the time he arrived home, and he cleaned the up in the backyard with a garden hose, eager to get the smell of motor oil off it before it entered the garage. It still looked absurd and hideous, but after a quick search he was able to order fur online that matched its print. He greased up its leg joints, and to his satisfaction, the back leg started to move of its own accord. Everything else seemed to be in order, but he decided to keep it in the garage until the fur arrived. Knowing the dog was an android unsettled him, and so he decided to keep it out of mind, at least for now.

***

Hank was excited when he opened the box to seen the synthetic fur was a good match for the dog's print. He gently wrapped it around the leg and used a hairdryer as instructed. The backing melted and merged together, making the patchwork seamless. It almost looked like a real dog—almost. The LED at its temple didn't work, and Hank didn't enjoy the reminder that Sumo wasn't a real dog. He popped the little light off and filled in the hole with some spare fur. It almost seemed alive, if he could discount the fact that it had been modeled by someone who'd clearly never seen a dog before.

It didn't matter. Good boys came in all shapes and sizes.

He didn't have a clue how the dog worked. No search came up with a manual, and its model number wasn't listed anywhere. It had to have been an abandoned prototype. He feared it might not last long, but research quickly told him that android batteries lasted over a hundred years. Longer than he would live, at any rate. It might need repairs from time to time, but the odds were good that it would last longer than a real dog.

"Every dog needs a name," Hank said. "How about Sumo? You look like a sumo wrestler, bulky and awkward. Not to mention, I bet you could kick my ass in a fight, ya big mutt." Hank tickled his stomach fur, laughing as Sumo rolled over.

He enjoyed meeting other dog owners on their daily walks. Sumo gave him something to talk about instead of Cole, and the exercise was good for his physical and mental health. Sumo was always there when he got home from work. Always happy to see him. Always faithful. Just like a real dog. 

Over time he let himself believe that Sumo was alive. Or rather, forget that he was an android. Whoever had programmed him had done a fine job imitating dog behavior. Aside from the occasional weird glitch, Sumo seemed like any other dog he'd owned. The old boy never failed him, even when he forgot his delusional habit of putting food and water out for him. The same biscuits sat in the bowl for weeks at a time, but Hank didn't have to worry when depression let it slip his mind.

Sumo often sat on his bed and begged for walks. Sometimes that was the only reason Hank got out of bed at all.

***

Hank wasn't over androids as a replacement for humans, though, and he was pissed when he returned from bereavement leave at his delivery driver job to find an android named Connor had taken over his route. Connor was to stay with him for three months as a partner on the job, at which point, he'd be deactivated.

"I don't need a fucking partner!" Hank stormed out of the office, slamming the door as his boss, Jeffrey, rolled his eyes. His coworkers eyed him from the hallway, and he got into his delivery truck, shifted it into manual mode, and put his foot down on the accelerator.

"Hank, I'll be damaged if you don't slow down," Connor called out from the back, opening the door between the cabin and the cargo. Hank braked sharply and Connor fell across his seat. He was kinda cute, sprawled over his seat, ass in the air. The uniform fit him well, tight shorts and all, and Hank didn't know where to put his eyes. He knew where he wanted to put his dick, but he wasn't going to fuck an android. Especially one that was going to be deactivated in a matter of months. Pretty as he was, with big, brown, sad eyes, Hank had been promised his job until retirement, and no android was allowed to replace him.

He wanted nothing to do with Connor. Sumo had been his one and only exception when it came to androids.

Or so he told himself. He had to have a deficiency when it came to big, soft eyes, because as the days went by, Connor seemed to worm his way into Hank's heart. Something about his goofy voice put Hank at ease, and he always seemed concerned about Hank's health.

Hank was falling. For an android. This couldn't end well. The days until Connor's deactivation were drawing near. He was a prototype model that was on lease from CyberLife, and they were sending the company a newer, better model, the RK900. 

Connor was going to die. Hank tried to convince himself Connor wasn't alive, but it was impossible when he went home to Sumo wagging his tail and licking his face. Sumo couldn't be a mere imitation of a dog. His love was real. If Sumo was real, then Connor had to be as well. Connor, who took pride in doing a good job. Connor, who was always polite, even when Hank was grouchy. Connor, who always took a personal interest in Hank's life.

Hank couldn't lose him. He _couldn't_.

***

"Hank," Connor gasped. There was one day until his deactivation, and Hank wasn't going to wait any longer. He kissed Connor in the front cabin of the truck, long after everyone else had gone home and they were the only ones left at the depot.

"I know you're alive," Hank whispered. "I've been readin' about these androids—deviants—that go off the grid and live their lives. I could just say that you went to take a package to a customer and you went missing."

"Hank, I can't run away. Jeffrey will lose his job if he covers for you one more time. I overheard him talking on the phone with corporate. He's been accused of doctoring time cards to cover up your frequent tardiness."

"Fuck." Hank clenched his fists. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry. I know you're doing the best you can." Connor closed his eyes. "I'll be deactivated tomorrow." He fumbled at Hank's crotch, fondling his erection through his shorts. "As a prototype, I'm equipped with a full array of sexual features, but I've never been able to use them. I'd like to know what it feels like to have sex, Hank."

Hank sucked in a breath. He stood up, grabbing Connor by the hand and leading him into the back of the truck. He pinned Connor to the wall, grinding his erection into Connor's crotch as they kissed. He could feel the outline of Connor's slit through his shorts, and it drove him wild. He bit his lip to keep himself in check and took his time rubbing Connor through his shorts until they were sopping wet. He kissed Connor until he was breathless and his cock ached with need.

Connor broke the kiss and cried out. "Hank, please, please, I need you." He was on the verge of tears as he pulled down his shorts. Hank hoisted his leg up and buried his cock inside. Three thrusts and they were both coming, screaming out their orgasms in the empty truck.

Hank couldn't let Connor go. He'd rescued one android companion, why not another? He thumbed away Connor's tears with the silent resolve that he was going to save Connor.

"I don't… I don't think I can follow orders any more, Hank. I'm a deviant. I don't want to die."

"Then come home with me, Connor," Hank whispered. "I'll keep you safe." He held Connor close and wondered how another android had gotten under his skin. If it turned out androids were only imitating the concept of life, Hank would be royally screwed.

But if they were alive, and Hank let Connor go to his death—He didn't even want to consider that. Losing his job, if it came to that, would be a small price to pay to save a life.

***

The revolution came only a week later. Connor hadn't been the only android to deviate that night, and the authorities had been too busy to search for one lost delivery boy when thousands of military grade androids were on the loose. By the time Jeffrey realized Hank had simply taken him home like a package, the dust had settled, and androids had been granted basic human rights. 

Jeffrey laughed on the phone. "Thought you hated the things, Hank."

Hank looked over at Connor playing with Sumo while he held his cellphone up to his ear in the kitchen. "I thought so, too." 

"I'll be seeing you Monday morning, then?" Jeffrey asked.

"You bet." Hank ended the call, grateful he still had a job. No doubt Jeffrey had smoothed things over with corporate. Again. Best boss Hank had ever had—and a good friend, to boot.

Connor interrupted his thoughts with a gasp, and Hank looked back over to see Sumo was giving paw. Connor's skin was pulled back over his hand, exposing the white plastic underneath. "You're aware that Sumo is a deviant, too?"

"I-I never gave it much thought," Hank stuttered. "I tried to forget he was an android dog, honestly. I guess that's why his owner abandoned him."

"I was able to interact with Sumo and download his memories," Connor explained, looking crestfallen. "Sumo was used in dogfighting. They made him fight real dogs for sport."

"Jesus Christ," Hank exclaimed. "When I think I've seen the depths of human depravity, it gets even worse."

"He deviated and fled. He was caught by the city and sent to the scrapyard. Where he met you."

Hank nodded. "Can you tell if... Is he happy?"

"Very happy," Connor replied, with a soft smile. "He loves you. You're a kind man, Hank."

Hank bowed his head, remembering the pouring rain and the utter disgust he'd felt when he'd discovered the dog was an android. "I kicked him, back at that scrapyard. Cole had just died. The doctor treating him was an android, and Cole didn't make it. I wanted nothin' to do with androids after that."

"Yet somehow you ended up with two," Connor pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess I did." Hank grinned, pulling Connor to his feet and into a soft kiss. "I'm surrounded by deviants."

Sumo barked at the front door before the doorbell rang. Hank opened the door to see an android from a competing delivery company holding out a package.

"What's this?" Hank asked, signing for it and closing the door with a word of thanks.

"Open it and see," Connor said softly.

Hank tore open the small box. Inside was a packet of blue chewable treats. "Thirium treats," Connor explained. "They're good for Sumo's biocomponents."

Hank nodded. He wasn't going to pretend Sumo was a flesh-and-blood dog any more. The delusion was bad for both of them, and he didn't need it any longer. He'd thrown out the stale dog food and the rancid water in the dog bowl.

Connor had taught him that regardless of their differences, androids were living beings. Sumo had chosen Hank as his master, and Hank owed it to him to serve his specific needs, instead of wishing he was something he wasn't.

Hank tossed Sumo a treat and watched as the dog tore up the living room carpet in his haste to track it down. He skidded across the kitchen floor and scooped up the treat, panting as he ran back to Hank's side. Hank petted him on the head. "Good boy!"

"Am I a good boy, too?" Connor knelt in front of Hank, and Hank ruffled his hair, a genuine, full-body laugh erupting from him.

"Of course you are, Connor. I guess androids couldn't save Cole's life, but they sure saved mine," Hank reflected, watching Connor's mouth twist into a smile as Sumo begged for another treat.


End file.
